


Soiling the Winter Palace

by zadrisala



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Just Unashamed Smut, M/M, Scandalous Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zadrisala/pseuds/zadrisala
Summary: Dorian finds a way to relax the Inquisitor after the trying events of the Winter Palace. One shot smut!





	Soiling the Winter Palace

Ashaanon Lavellan let out a sigh as he craned his neck around, rubbing it. The chatter and music from inside the ballroom of the Winter Palace was a hum in the background as he looked out over the quiet balcony, somewhat concealed by a few tall, ornately trimmed shrubs. Ashaanon desperately wanted to close his eyes, to take in the cool air fluttering through his hair, but his body and mind were still pulsing, on edge from the bloody fights with the Venatori agents he killed only an hour ago.

A change in the air. A warm and calming aura, emitting a glow that only his mage eyes could see. Someone was behind him, but he didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Hands slid gently up Ashaanon’s back, thumbs pressing into the base of his neck, circling down over his shoulders. Ashaanon finally let his eyes flutter close, letting out the breath that had been holding tension between his shoulder blades.

“Relaxed already? Tsk tsk.” Dorian’s low voice was so close to Ashaanon’s ear that he felt goosebumps. “You cold hearted killer. The Inquisitor enjoys the cool night air while servants mop up the bloodshed he caused in the Palace’s exquisite gardens!”

“Hm.” The Inquisitor in question passed the magister an annoyed look. He didn’t want to be reminded of the work he had left his fellow elves to clean up at the moment.

Dorian chuckled, and glanced quickly around to make sure no one was looking through the windows onto their balcony. Coast clear. He stroked a flyaway hair out of Ashaanon’s moonlit face and leaned in for a quick peck on his waiting lips before gliding his way to his jaw.

“The Empress is in her private quarters now, escorted by your ambassador and commander,” Ashaanon gave a small shudder as he felt Dorian’s warm lips move against his neck. Not wanting to give his lover the satisfaction he knew he would get, he attempted to stifle his shudder with a nonchalant “Hm,” but instead it came out closer to a soft moan. He felt Dorian’s grin against his neck and rolled his eyes.  
Dorian continued to rub Ashaanon’s back, slowly making his way back down towards his waist.  
“Lady Nightingale is in the gardens collecting information,” he murmured, trailing his words along Ashaanon’s pointed ear, grazing his tongue on his lobe to illicit another soft moan. “Iron Bull if enjoying the bland Orlesian refreshments, and Cassandra is ever dutifully keeping watch in front of the Empress’s quarters. It seems that I finally,”— he gently bit and sucked on Ashaanon’s ear, successfully earning a gasp at the sudden sensation— “have you to myself.”

Ashaanon felt his cheeks grow hot— a tell that he tried hard to hide, but could never control when the charming mage was teasing him like this. He was extremely aware now of the tightness in his trousers, grateful that his tunic and belt were long enough to cover any signs.  
“Did you come here just to tease me, Ser, or were you planning to destroy the Inquisition’s reputation right here on this ledge?” He turned around to face Dorian, unable to take physical torture any longer.  
Dorian laughed. “Ohh, I would if I could _Your Worship_ , but I don’t think I’d live to tease you another day. I’ve seen Lady Montiliyet’s wrath performed on Sera, and I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that.” He looked down at the Inquisitor’s body, now pinned against the ledge by his own and smirked. “I would much rather be receiving something much more—“

His words were cut off by the Inquisitor tugging him by the collar to kiss him with fervor, lacing his tongue between the Magister’s teeth and biting his lower lip to suckle.  
For a minute there was silence on the dark balcony, save for the heavy breathes of the two men, intertwined in a fierce battle of dominance as their tongues wrestled with each other.  
They broke away when a noble woman’s voice came dangerously close to the glass doors a few feet away. Ashaanon felt frustration pool in the pit of his gut. He straightened his tunic as Dorian watched, amusement twitching the corner of his mouth.  
“You’re really the worst, most ill-mannered, crass…” he muttered as he picked up his staff from the corner. Throwing another exasperated look at Dorian, he leaned in again, this time swiftly reaching under the magister’s robes to briefly stroke the hardening package underneath.  
“Front courtyard, under the gates. 15 minutes,” he ordered as he turned and strutted back into the ballroom.

Dorian chuckled and sighed, leaning against the ledge to watch Ashaanon disappear into the crowd. Exactly what he needed.

********

Dorian left the balcony ten minutes later, once he was sure people weren’t watching where the Inquisitor had just left from. Not that it mattered— people were already talking and it wasn’t just around Skyhold apparently. Nobles had been passing him glances all night; curious, disgusted, amused, suspicious. Whispers in the corners every time Dorian stood a little too close to the Inquisitor.

 

It worried him, but Dorian was used to the ignorant rumors that surrounded him. Besides, he only had one thing on his mind right now.

He made his way past through the ballroom and out to the glittering gates of the Winter Palace, into the courtyard where there were only a couple of servant elves picking up discarded wine glasses. All the nobles were now inside, gossiping about the exciting events of the night.

He looked around, squinting in the dark for a sign of the Inquisitor as he walked down the steps.

“Dorian!”

He turned in the direction the whisper came from and saw Ashaanon, white hair glinting in the moon light, ducking back into the small gazebo. He smiled as he walked over, giving the courtyard one more glance to make sure no naughty nobles had seen them. He made eye contact with a small elven woman, a servant, who was staring in wonder at the door behind which the Inquisitor had disappeared. She started at being seen by Dorian and gave a hurried, little bow. Dorian smiled at her and raise a finger to his lips, winking. The maid’s face turned bright red, visible even by the flickering light of the courtyard lamp, and she turned away to busy herself with cleaning the nearby bench. Dorian chuckled as he slipped inside.

He barely had time to shut the door before he was pushed up against it, hot breath closing in as Ashaanon’s lips crashed into his. Their staves clattered to the gazebo floor as Ashaanon tugged the buckles of Dorian’s robes open, impatiently pushing aside the cloth to provide access to the belt of his trousers. Dorian eagerly responded, sucking Ashaanon’s lip and unfastening the loops of the silk tunic on his lithe frame.

Just as Ashaanon bent his knees to lower himself, Dorian pushed him back, ignoring his exclamation of protest, and backed him into the table in the middle of the room, knocking to the floor the heavy books that had been left tastefully to decorate the table top. Ashaanon, refusing to let Dorian have his way after being mercilessly teased on the balcony, flipped his side again, never letting go of his bite on Dorian’s lip.

“You just stay there and be good for once,” he growled, and Dorian moaned in defeated consent. He loved being in control, but it turned him on beyond reason when the elven man was being pushy. He let Ashaanon undo his trouser, pushing them down to the floor to release his erect cock. Ashaanon continued to nip at Dorian’s neck and chest as he took the hard shaft in his hand and began to stroke, spreading the precum along the length of his lover. Dorian let his head fall back, closing his eyes as he hummed with pleasure.  
Ashaanon lowered himself to the floor, kissing slowly around the hair at the base of Dorian’s now very hard cock. Flicking his tongue out, he suckled at the base of it, stroking the tip smoothly, looking up to see the reaction he was getting. He got the groan he was pulling for when he reached his other hand below, fondling the sensitive sack.

“Oh for the love of Andraste, Ashaanon, stop teasing me already…” Dorian gripped the elf’s pearly hair and tried to nudge his closer, but he stubbornly resisted.

“You know you deserve this, don’t you?” Ashaanon suckled on the tender skin of Dorian’s balls, pushing another moan. “Teasing me all the time, making me hard in front of the stuffy Orlesian nobles, in front of our companions…” he growled through kisses and licks.

“I-I’m not going to… apologize for it if th-that’s what you’re thinking,” Dorian gasped out as Ashaanon flicked his tongue on the tip of his cock. He was starting to lose control, he could feel himself building up already from the lack of contact.  
“Sod it all, Ashaanon, please…”

“Then beg.” Ashaanon knew he wasn’t going to get an apology easily, and he was running short on patience himself. “Beg for me.” He ran the flat of his tongue up against the length of Dorian’s shaft.

“Maker… Please, _please_ , Ashaanon.. I need you, now….”

That was good enough. Ashaanon wrapped his lips around the tip of the hard cock in front of him, stroking the base as he slid down, taking it in until it hit the back of his throat. Dorian moaned, loudly this time, and his fingers tangled themselves in Ashaanon’s hair. Ashaanon closed his eyes and let his lips slide up again, just barely hovering away from the tip before pushing down again, and again, while he reached a finger back to probe a spot that made Dorian gasped and buck into his mouth.

“Shit, A-asha—” He couldn’t finished the name before the Inquisitor pushed even harder, rocking Dorian dangerously close to the edge.

Dorian pulled back and tugged Ashaanon to his feet.

“I wasn’t finished with—“ but his complaints were cut short as Dorian bent him over the table and quickly pushed his robes away.

“I’m not finished yet either,” Dorian growled as he took hold of Ashaanon’s hard cock and began stroking. He moistened a finger and placed it at the elf’s entrance.

“Hnn..” Ashaanon fell forward onto the table, pumping into Dorian’s hand.

“Good…” Dorian murmured as he pushed the tip on his finger into him, making him moan into the table cloth. Slowly he drove his finger in, turning it, squeezing a second one in as the Inquisitor bucked and mewled.

Dorian looked up at the curtains, checking the distant lights of the Palace. They didn’t have much time.

“Ashaanon,” he bent over and kissed the elf on his exposed neck. “We don’t have time. Can I put it in?”

Ashaanon turned his head, and the sight of him, sweat glistening on his tattooed skin, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and slick with spit as he panted on the table, made Dorian’s heart skip a beat as his own cock swelled even more.

“Put it in, Dorian, I want you… The elixir is in my bag…”

Dorian nodded and kissed him gently, swiping his tongue along his open lips.  
He reached down and fumbled with the robes on the floor for a moment before pulling out a small bottle of thick liquid from the Inquisitor’s hip bag. Uncorking it, he dripped a small amount on his fingers and rubbed them together, warming them up before stroking himself, smoothing the liquid on his cock.

Ashaanon whined softly. “Dorian…” the begging in his voice make Dorian smirk.

“I’m here, _Your Worship_ ,” he said, placing the tip of his cock at the entrance, and in one thrust he plunged himself into the Inquisitor. Ashaanon moaned again and gripped the cloth, biting on it to mask his noises as Dorian pumped himself into him, gripping Ashaanon’s thighs to pull himself deep.

“D-Dorian…” Ashaanon stuttered through the cloth as he reached back to touch himself, pumping his own cock as Dorian thrusted into him, harder and faster.

“Ashaanon, Maker, I’m going to…” Dorian fell forward to lean on the table with one hand, slamming himself into Ashaanon, burying his cock deep within him as he came closer to climax which each thrust.

“Dorian— Dorian please, come,” The grip on his thigh was so hard it was starting to hurt, but Ashaanon paid no attention. “Come for me— I’m going to—“

His words were smothered by Dorian pushing their lips together, gripping Ashaanon’s neck to turn his face towards him as he moaned desperately into his tongue, pulling Ashaanon onto his cock with every stroke as he came.  
Ashaanon reciprocated, driven to the edge by the sensation of Dorian coming inside, he bucked into his hand as he climaxed, his seed spilling out onto the white, embroidered Orlesian table cloth. Dorian thrusted into him a few times more before his knees buckled and they fell back onto the lush fur rug.

Panting, sweaty, they lay their in each other’s arms, until Dorian began to laugh in between his breathes.

“What… is so… funny?” Ashaanon got out as he nuzzled against the crook of Dorian’s neck.

“Oh, nothing,” Dorian replied, still chortling to himself. “Just the thought of our companies faces if they found out how naughty you were at the Empress’s Winter Palace.”

Ashaanon laughed as he sat up gingerly. “Not to mention the Orlesians in there. An elf did what with who in the Winter Palace Gazebo?”

“Ha!” Dorian sat up to kiss Ashaanon on his forehead, smiling when he saw the faint blush on his cheeks. _Just too_ _adorable_.

“We should probably get cleaned up and go back before they realize we’re missing.” Ashaanon stood up, wobbling towards the pile of robes on the floor.

“Or _what_ they’re missing,” Dorian said, laughing as he reached out to steady the Inquisitor.

*********

The cold air blew through the room as the Inquisitor entered Josephine’s office. She was at her desk, writing away as usual. Dorian was in an armchair by the fire, reading a book from her collection of the history of Orais. He smiled and nodded as Ashaanon sat down in the armchair across from him.

“Always on the go, you are,” he said as he made to close the book, “Shall I leave, or..?”

Ashaanon waved “no need” and Dorian sat back again, looking pleased.

“No, that’s alright. Josie, I was just hoping you could tell me about the Compte that’s supposed to be arriving tomorrow.”

Josephine didn’t look up as she scribbled on the parchment. “Oh, yes. Compte Mourier. He is… quite a character, to put it mildly. Very supportive of Inquisition efforts, and an excellent diplomat for his sense of justice, but he is…” She paused to think about a word to use, before writing again. “A rake. I am not concerned for you, Your Worship, but I must warn the ladies of Skyhold to be wary of his charming antics. You know, I heard a rumor at the Winter Palace that he is suspected to be the one who, er, soiled the courtyard gazebo! Imagine, on a night like that, in the Empress’s Winter Palace!”

Josephine scoffed as she reached into her drawer for a spare piece of parchment. She didn’t see Dorian’s stifling laughter as the Inquisitor hid his face behind a book.


End file.
